


Dungeon Crawling

by MathClassWarfare



Series: We're on a Road to Nowhere [5]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Anxiety, Canon Related, Claustrophobia, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, POV Prompto Argentum, Side Quests
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2018-12-10
Packaged: 2019-09-15 19:35:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16939383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MathClassWarfare/pseuds/MathClassWarfare
Summary: The Steyliff menace dungeon sets off Prompto’s claustrophobia, and Noctis tries to help.





	Dungeon Crawling

Heart pounding, lungs working overtime, legs burning as he takes probably the 100th lap around this room, Prompto can’t stop thinking just how _cute_ it is, even as he narrowly avoids another slice to the achilles. 

The last tonberry is right on his heels.

“Guys!” He’s zigzagging, bounding away from each lunge of the tiny daemon’s kitchen knife. “Can I get a little help here?”

Noctis answers his call in a bloom of crackling crystalline light, and bears down with frosty daggers, giving Prompto the time and distance he needs to get a shot off, perfectly synced with a blast of magical snow flurry from Ignis.

“My hero, Noct!” he trumpets.

The tonberry staggers for just a moment, giving Gladio an opening. With a mighty swing of his greatsword, he launches it to the ceiling of this ancient room. That’s where Noctis meets the creature again, landing the final strike in mid-air.

They’ve survived another battle, but Prompto doesn’t sing a victory fanfare. He’s too focused on the dust falling from the ceiling. 

With each floor they descend into this dungeon, it feels more and more like the walls are closing in. He wonders if there’s enough oxygen.

“Have I mentioned that I’m claustrophobic?”

Noctis stops before rounding the corner into the next stairwell. He glances back at Prompto, scrunching his brow and stifling a laugh.

Gladio slaps Prompto on the back as he passes. “Only about a million times, kid.”

“Good,” he squeaks. “Just checking.”

They reach another landing and pass through a doorway, prepared to face the next daemon or beast this dungeon wants to throw at them. Instead, they find a campfire, smack dab in the middle of the room. 

Ignis carefully takes in their surroundings. “This dungeon is significantly larger than we’d anticipated. We certainly won’t be able to finish exploring tonight. Perhaps we should rest here and start again tomorrow.” 

Noctis stashes their weapons, which dissolve in clouds of sparkle.

“Makes sense,” he decrees. 

Gladio nods and gets to work on the fire. 

Prompto is dumbfounded. “Wait. Are we seriously sleeping here?”

Gladio snorts. “You see a better place?” 

“B-but we didn’t bring any of our camping stuff!” 

Ignis sighs, and nudges his glasses back into place. “I know, and I must apologize to you all for my failure to anticipate these circumstances.” 

The other three murmur protests that it’s not his fault. They all thought it would be a long day, sure, but no more than that. 

The old woman at the Hunters’ HQ didn’t give them much information before handing Noctis the key that got them in here. She just said something confusing about old seals and a ‘ _terrrible_ evil’ that was scaring the other hunters away. Prompto’s starting to think that maybe they just didn’t feel like walking down all these stairs. 

Their strategist puts his chin up, composing himself, and clears his throat. “I suppose we’ll have to make do. At least we’re indoors.”

Prompto mutters, mostly to himself, “Yeah, great. Thirty floors underground.” He’s been counting.

“Now, then. Let’s take stock of our food supplies.” Ignis pulls an energy bar out of his pocket. “I have ten of these.”

“I brought cup noodles!” Gladio grins, producing two of his beloved foam containers.

“Ah, excellent. Why don’t you have one of those, and Noct and Prompto can share the other.” Ignis carefully places his jacket on the ground near the fire before sitting and unwrapping one of his rations. 

“I can’t believe you don’t like cup noodles, Iggy.” Gladio pours some water from his skein into a metal cup to boil by the fire.

“I prefer my food to have ingredients I can pronounce, thank you very much.” He reads the label in his hand. “Dates, walnuts, and pecans. Simple as that.”

Noctis sits next to Gladio and takes the offered noodles, turning the cup around to look at the list of ingredients. “You underestimate yourself Ignis. I bet you can pronounce ‘sodium try . . . poly . . . pros . . . phate.’ I mean, I just did.”

“ _Sure_ you did, buddy.” Prompto pats Noctis on the back, and crouches to look over his shoulder. “Huh. What’s TBHQ?”

“To be honest, questionable.” Ignis’s cool, collected affect is nearly disturbed by the flicker of a smile. 

“Let’s live dangerously.” Noctis peels open his noodles and accepts the hot water Gladio offers, swirling in the powdered flavoring with a dagger. They didn’t bring utensils either. 

He shrugs at Prompto, and raises the cup to his lips. “ _Oww!_ Hot!” 

Chortling, Prompto takes the noodles and blows on them. “You weren’t kidding!” 

He tips the cup back to swallow a sloppy mouthful, his other hand curled beneath his chin in a hopeless attempt to catch splashing broth. Then he passes it back to Noctis.

“Good thing you two don’t mind swapping spit,” Gladio teases.

Noctis’s eyes go wide, mid-slurp, and Prompto heroically squashes a giggle. Soon enough, the awkward moment passes. 

Gladio inhales his noodles in two quick gulps before slamming the cup on the ground and wiping his mouth with the back of a hand. “ _Ahhhhhh!_ It really is the ultimate flavor experience.”

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that. Again.” Ignis collects the packaging from their meal and bundles it together to take out with them. They’re responsible dungeon crawlers.

Not long after, the four friends lie on the ground, bunched-up jackets for pillows, trying to get some rest. 

Prompto can’t sleep though. He stares at the ceiling, watching and listening intently for signs of collapse. 

Over his own rapid heartbeat, he can hear Gladio snoring. Then there’s a rustle of fabric, scratch of boots on the sandy floor, and Noctis is lying next to him. 

“Hey. You okay?” Noctis leans on his elbow, resting his head in his hand. Prompto rolls onto his side to mirror him. 

“Oh, you know,” he whispers. “Brain’s just screaming at me about how we’re going to suffocate in here. No biggie.” 

“Would it help if you close your eyes? Pretend we’re someplace else?” 

With a quiet snort and slow-spreading smile, Prompto shuts his eyelids. “Like where? It still smells like a dungeon.” 

“Remember that trip to the museum back in high school? When we spent the night in there?”

“ _Uhhh._ Yes?” Prompto kind of remembers that field trip. Who ever thought it was a good idea to lock a bunch of teenagers in a museum overnight? 

“Let’s pretend we’re back there, in the ancient history exhibit. Same aesthetic. And it smelled pretty musty too. I think Ignis maybe mentioned they had plumbing issues.”

“Ok, I definitely remember now. That place stank! And we were there with Mr. Festus. _Ugh!_ He was the worst!” Prompto scowls. 

Noctis whispers in a stuffy imitation of their teacher. “Mr. Argentum, since you are so eager to speak in this class, please approach the board and tell us about the precipitating events of the Great War.”

Prompto is shaking with barely-contained laughter. “I thought this was supposed to be helping my anxiety! Now you’re giving me flashbacks!” He reaches out to pull Noctis’s hand away from where he’s definitely pinching his nose.

“Sorry.” Noctis slides closer.

This is fine, probably. Gladio’s still snoring away, so Ignis has got to be wearing those custom-molded earplugs he brought from Insomnia, as if he already knew the big guy was like this. It makes Prompto wonder. 

He’s not judging though, as he lays here so close to his prince. No, his king now. His best friend. His Noct. Just Noct, whose breath is on his face, whose body heat he can feel from just centimeters away, who’s touching his cheek and tipping his head into a kiss that tastes like instant ramen.

“Mmmmm. We didn’t do _that_ in high school.” Prompto rests a hand on Noctis’s hip.

“Yeah.” Noctis strokes Prompto’s hair. “High school sucked.” 

“It wasn’t _all_ bad, was it?”

“Maybe not for you.” Noctis shifts and re-bunches his jacket. “Who was that girl you were hanging out with back then? She was in our history class, right?”

“Oh gods . . . _uhh_ . . . Camelia! Yeah. She was fun.” Prompto starts giggling. “Wasn’t that the school trip when she smoked us up in the family bathroom? Out of a soda can?” 

“ _Shhhhh!_ ” Noctis presses a finger to Prompto’s lips.

He regains control and softens his whisper. “It totally was. We were _bad kids_ , Noct.”

“Man. I used to get so jealous of all those people you went out with.”

“ _Awww_ buddy! Well I’m all yours now. Don’t worry.” Prompto grins.

“I know.” Noctis brushes his fingertips along Prompto’s jaw line. “It’s awesome.” 

Prompto shimmies forward to close the gap between them, burying his hand in waxy hair and searching for Noctis’s mouth with his own. Warmth unfurls in his chest, fighting against the tight coil of fear he’s been holding there all day. 

There’s so much he wants to say—that he can’t say—to his most important person in all of Eos. 

He’s come so close, so many times. 

Sitting on top of a washing machine, fingers in Noctis’s hair—just like this—with the biting sweetness of whiskey on his tongue, he started to tell him. Then he swallowed the words and kissed him again, instead. 

Once, in the shared silence of the Regalia, Gladio asleep with an open book in his hands, Ignis watching the road, and Noctis improbably awake, he wrote a text. He almost sent it too.

Now they’re in this dungeon—who knows how far underground—and the whole place could come crashing down on them any second. Then he’ll never have a chance to say it.

So he opens his eyes.

“Hey! Eyes closed, remember?” Noctis softly chides. “We’re still at the museum.”

Prompto shakes his head. “I need to look at your face.” He twines the fingers of their hands together. “So I can, ah, tell you . . . that . . . I—I love you, Noct. Like, I’m legit _in love_ with you.” 

Noctis blinks. Saucer-eyed, and mouth hanging open. He breathes, “Whoa.”

That sends Prompto reeling. _Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit!_

He rolls onto his back and covers his face with his hands, whisper-yelling, “Sorry! Should’na said that!” _We had a good thing going and I just fucked it right up!_

Noctis’s hand is on his shoulder, gently shaking him. “No, no no.”

“Can we just pretend it’s five minutes ago, before I ruined everything?” _He’s engaged! Why can’t I keep my mouth shut!_

“Prompto,” Noctis pleads. “Look at me!”

He fans opens his fingers, and through them he can see Noctis’s dopey smile. _Oh._

Noctis shakes his head, and exhales. “I’m super in love with you too, dude.”

“Seriously?” Prompto lifts his hands from his own face to Noctis’s, brushing aside black bangs.

“Yeah.” Noctis leans forward, nodding.

“Cool.” 

Prompto lets his eyelids close again, luxuriating in this kiss, their tangle of legs, Noctis’s heartbeat thrumming against his own chest as he presses in close. He finds Noctis’s back pocket and slips his hand inside.

While Noctis is kissing his shoulder, Prompto whispers in his ear, “I can think of some other things we didn’t do in high school.”

“You're going to get us expelled,” Noctis murmurs into the crook of his neck.

“Not if you’re quiet.”

“Oh, so I’m the one who needs to be quiet,” Noctis laughs.

“ _Shhhhh._ ” 

Prompto silences Noctis with a lingering kiss, and tries not to moan when he feels fingers tugging at his hair. 

He really hopes Ignis’s earplugs are as good as advertised.

**Author's Note:**

> The next time they swing through Meldacio, Ignis buys a second tent, without explanation. The awkward silence hangs heavy in the car for the rest of the afternoon.


End file.
